


Of Ruin and Salvation

by onepageatatime715



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: A Court of Thorns and Roses - Freeform, Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inner Circle - Freeform, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Wing Kink, a court of mist and fury, a court of wings and ruin - Freeform, lots of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onepageatatime715/pseuds/onepageatatime715
Summary: Set during Chapter 80 of A Court of Wings and Ruin, following the Inner Circle’s return to the townhouse in Velaris.All characters and names belong to Sarah J Maas.





	1. Of Ruin and Salvation

After Amren stormed out of the house, and Elain had noted that the “new Amren” was crankier than the old, I had found myself laughing – actually laughing – along with the rest of my court. With my family.

Except Nesta, who stared at nothing.

I considered going to her, but my lingering uncertainty about what lay between us, even after she had shielded my body with hers on the battlefield, made me hesitate.

A moment’s hesitation was all that was needed.

“Come on,” Mor said, slinging her arm around Azriel’s shoulders, then one around mine, leading us towards the sitting room. “We need a drink.”

I glanced back, trying to catch Nesta’s eye as I called over my shoulder, “We’re opening the fancy bottles.”

But it was Rhys who answered me, “Save a bit for me, at least.”

I hoped that just maybe Nesta would follow – but she lingered with her sisters, so I let myself be led away, not wanting to interrupt the Archeron sisters, or their shared grief. Not when Feyre still looked so haunted.

But after a moment I heard footsteps – slow and stiff – marching up the stairs. Felt the now familiar tug in my ribcage. And I knew without a doubt who those footfalls belonged to. Knew with dark certainty as I heard the click of her shutting bedroom door that she was hiding herself from us.

I debated it – going to her now – but somehow I already had two bottles of amber-coloured liquid in my hands (undoubtedly Rhys’ finest bottles, since Mor herself had picked them out). I hesitated again, letting Mor flit about as she uncorked the bottles and filled the crystal glasses with liquid.

Then I made my decision

I stood up, drinks in hand, and made for the hallway, intending to go upstairs – only to pause at the sight of Rhys, my High Lord, and my brother, standing alone in the kitchen, gazing out the window.

“You coming to drink, or are you just going to stare at the flowers all day?” I quipped. Almost immediately I felt Azriel behind me, as if he too had been drawn out of the room by a missing friend – though likely not the same as I, even if we had ended up in the same doorway.

Azriel floated Rhys the second drink he carried, which Rhys scooped up. “Sneaking up on your High Lord is ill-advised,” he told us, drinking deeply.

“It’s good to keep you on edge in your old age,” I heard myself saying. “Why are you hiding in here?”

Azriel shot me a look, but Rhys just took another drink.

“You really did open the fancy bottles,” Rhys murmured. And I saw it then – the same thing I felt – in his face. As he listened to Feyre and Mor laugh. That fear that none of this was real.

“It’s real,” Azriel said softly. Our Shadowsinger, always so soft-spoken, so observant.

Rhys took another drink.

“Let’s not do this again for another five hundred years,” he said hoarsely, coming over to clink his glass against ours. He didn’t ask who my second glass was for.

Mor called us again, and Rhys and Azriel made for the sitting room – towards our friends who waited for them there. And neither of my brothers commented as a slipped away, following that tug in my ribcage, up the stairs, to the one person in the house not celebrating the end of the war.

I knocked lightly on her door, afraid to hope for an answer.

None came.

“Nesta,” I called softly, “I didn’t want you to miss out on what is most certainly the finest bottle of whiskey Rhys will ever allow us to open, so I brought you a glass.”

My words sounded foolish, even to me, and I mentally kicked myself.

But then I heard it – a scuffle from her room – and the door cracked open slightly, revealing Nesta’s face. Still so blank, so emotionless.

“I brought you,” I began, but she cut me off.

“I heard you the first time,” she growled, reaching for the glass. I handed it to her, and she turned away, retreating back into her room. She didn’t close the door behind her though, so I slipped in behind her, tucking my wings in tight to avoid jarring the still sensitive tissue.

What could I say? I remembered those moments on the battlefield so clearly – remembered kissing her, feeling her lips brush against mine as we faced certain death. And I remembered my shock as Nesta covered my body with her own.

What could I say to this female who meant the world to me? Who had been willing to sacrifice herself? Who had been unwilling to let me go?

“Say what it is you came to say, Cassian,” Nesta grumbled from the window, where she stood nursing her drink.

“Why?” My voice was barely more than a whisper, but I knew she heard me. Knew she understood what I was asking.

“I couldn’t leave you,” She whispered back, her blue-grey eyes meeting my hazel ones from across the room. “Because I would have lived my life regretting it every single day. Regretting that I didn’t have time with you, Cassian.”

I could have sworn my heart stopped.

Somehow, impossibly, I was across the room to her in a moment, my drink discarded on the windowsill as I cupped her face, my eyes searching her own as I held her. Still uncertain – still hesitating.

“I don’t want either of us to regret not having enough time,” I whispered hoarsely. Nesta didn’t pull away – just met my gaze with her own, as unyielding as she had ever been.

And she didn’t stop me as I leaned down and kissed her – lightly.

Nor did she stop me when I claimed her mouth again, more forcefully this time, savouring the taste of her as our bodies pressed together, both of our half-finished drinks now forgotten on the windowsill. I pressed one of her hands to the small of her back, drawing her closer to me, pressing her body against mine as I deepened the kiss.

She pulled away slightly and I froze, uncertain all over again.

“Nesta,” I began, but she silenced me with a kiss of her own and a growl. I kissed her back, desperate for whatever she would give me, for more. Her hands were in my hair, and I moaned into her mouth at the feeling of it.

I backed up, pulling her with me, until my knees hit the bed and a practically fell back onto it, pulling Nesta on to my lap as I did so. She gripped my shoulders to steady herself, and I huffed a laugh.

“I won’t let you fall,” I whispered against her lips, and Nesta shivered slightly. I traced my kisses down her cheek then, to her neck, savouring in the taste of her, taking infinite pleasure in the small shivers that rippled through her body as I did so.

I paused as I reached her collarbone, uncertain of what to do next. Unwilling to push her too far. And, despite the desire I felt building in my core, resistant to the idea of making love to her for the first time in a place where every single one of our friends could hear us.

“The House of Wind,” Nesta whispered, already knowing where my thoughts had gone.

I met her eyes, and found nothing but unrelenting conviction there.

But I asked anyways. “You’re sure?”

“I have enough regrets in my life, Cassian. I don’t want either of us to regret not having enough time.”


	2. Of Salvation and Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Chapter 80 of A Court of Wings and Ruin, following the Inner Circle’s return to the townhouse in Velaris.
> 
> All characters and names belong to Sarah J Maas.

We had snuck out Nesta’s window as silently as we could, my still damaged wings straining as I flew us up to the House of Wind. I’d probably catch hell for this flight later – whether it be from one of my brothers, or the healer, when they noticed the strain I’d but on my wings.

Nesta clung to me desperately, her terror evident, and I silently cursed Rhysand for instilling a fear of flying in her.

“You’ll learn to love it,” I murmured into her ear.

“I very much doubt that,” she muttered back.

I couldn’t really complain though, not with Nesta pressed against me, every inch of her body clinging to mine, her scent, somehow both sharp and sweet, swirling around me as we flew. I pressed her closer to me still, savouring her scent.

I landed softly on the House balcony that adjoined to my rooms here, but I didn’t set Nesta down. Instead, I carried her through the curtains into the room – to the waiting bed. As I set her down, I saw it again – that empty expression in her eyes.

So I knelt before her and gripped her chin gently with my hand, forcing her to meet my gaze.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked softly.

“No.”

“Fine, then I’ll talk,” I nearly growled. Because as much as I wanted this, there was still something between us. “When I told you I would find you again in the next world – the next life, I meant that Nesta. From the depths of my heart, I meant it. You’re not just some girl to me, sweetheart,” my voice cracked slightly, but I pushed forward. “I love you, Nesta Archeron.”

Nesta met my gaze, and something burned in those grey-blue eyes of hers as she stared into my own hazel eyes – as if she had stripped my soul bare, could see into my heart. I prayed she could see the truth there. Could feel the same tug I felt, pulling me towards her.

“You’re my mate,” she whispered.

I knew she felt it then – the bond between us. And I cried as I pulled her into my arms, so we were both kneeling on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in this embrace.

“My mate,” I whispered into her hair, awe and reverence and love in my voice.

Nesta pulled back and regarded me, then she spoke. “I don’t know how to live in this body anymore Cassian. The Cauldron – it took back what I stole from it. Now, more than ever, I feel like … I don’t belong in this body. There’s something missing, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fix it. To fix me.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now too, and I gently kissed them away before she continued.

“I keep thinking that if I could have saved him, could have stopped Hybern sooner, than maybe I could have saved that bit of me too. Could have protected everyone else from everything that came after. But I wasn’t enough,” Nesta choked on a sob, and I pulled her closer, my heart pounding, aching at the sight of her brokenness.

“We’ll figure it out together, sweetheart,” I murmured. “We have that time now, because of you. You saved me when you made Hybern hesitate – _you_ saved me. You are more than enough – you were facing impossible odds, and still you save me.”

“I couldn’t save him,” she sobbed.

“He wouldn’t want his life to be your regret Nesta,” I murmured. “He made his choice – and he loved you fiercely. He would be proud of you, for all you accomplished, for how strong you have become.”

“I’m anything but strong,” Nesta whimpered.

“No, Nesta, you’re anything by weak,” I countered, smiling softly as I regarding my mate before me, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears as she regarded me.

Nesta opened her mouth to protest, but I silenced her with a fierce kiss, pulling her body to mine as I scooped her up and laid her back down on the bed with all the gentleness I could muster.

“We’ll find a way Nesta,” I promised. “A way to make you whole again. To heal you.”

“And if we can’t?” Nesta whispered, gazing up at me.

“You are already perfect to me, Nesta,” I whispered back, pleased to see Nesta flush slightly at the words.

“What now?” she asked.

“I owe you my life, Nesta Archeron, and I fully intend to pay that debt back however you’ll let me,” I whispered. Then I let my gaze peruse her body, taking her in hungrily, letting her know exactly what I intended, if she’d have me.

“Do your worst,” Nesta purred, eyes dancing with challenge.

I growled at that – at the desire I could now scent on her, and leaned forward to kiss her again, pressing her body beneath mine as I did so. My hands quickly found her body, slipping around to the back of her dress as they explored, my eagerness to finally – finally – see my mate bare before me getting the best of me.

Nesta started as she felt my hands on the lacing of her bodice, and I paused.

“Cassian, I’ve never…” she trailed off, and I pulled back just a bit.

“I know,” I murmured. “Are you sure – about this?”

Nesta nodded, that fiery determination rekindling in her eyes, and I leaned forward to kiss her again, whispering as I did so, “I’ll stop, Nesta, whenever you ask.”

Then I captured her lips in mine again, before letting my kisses trail lower – along her neck, and her collarbone, to the exposed skin of her chest – all the while carefully unlacing her dress, my hands steady despite my raging heart.

I nipped at her neck, and Nesta moaned, sending my instincts roaring. I wanted to hear that sound again – many, many times. So I slipped her shoulders free of her dress and kissed those too – and then I kissed my way down her body as I slid her free of her dress, savouring the small sounds she made as I did so, revelling in the way her body writhed beneath my hands and my mouth.

And finally, when her dress was in a puddle on the floor, I stopped to survey my mate – bare before me but for her thin undergarments. She watching me as my gaze surveyed her body, as I took in every inch of her skin.

“Why is it that I’m naked and you’re still fully clothed?” Nesta mused softly, pushing herself up until she was standing before me. My breathing hitched as her hands landed on the hemline my shirt. “How do I get this off?”

Her question was practically a growl, and I responded in kind as I guided her hands to the slats at the back of my shirt, showing her how to slip the shirt over my wings. And as she pulled it off me, her hands inadvertently brushed against my wings, sending shudders through my body.

“Are you … okay?”

“Yes,” I replied, silently wondering how it would feel if she touched my wings again – if she stroked them.

As if she sensed my thoughts, she raised her hand to touch my wings again – and when her first finger delicately touched my wing, unsure, I shivered again, nearly groaning at the sensation that rippled through me. She ran another finger down the wing, her face curious, and I shivered again, barely biting back the groan that rose in my throat.

“What does it feel like?” Nesta breathed. Her eyes were studying my face – studying whatever emotion was on there as she stroked my wings.

I grinned wickedly and leaned forward to trace my lips along the sensitive part of her neck, barely more than a whisper of a touch. She gasped and arched her body towards mine, and I chuckled softly.

“Like that,” I whispered in her ear.

Nesta flashed me her own wicked grin before tracing a line down the other wing, and this time I didn’t hold back my groan as I buried my face in her neck. Pressed against her like this, I could feel her bare skin against mine – could feel her breasts pressing against my chest.

Gods, I wanted her.

“Nesta,” I ground out, each word a struggle.

“Cassian,” Nesta replied. Her lips – what would they feel like on my wings?

Words were lost to me – so I pressed my body to hers, kissing her again, never able to get enough of the taste of her, the feel of her. My hands made quick work of her bra, freeing her breasts. She moaned as I traced my finder along her, teasing her nipples. I slid my kisses lower again – this time stopping to kiss each breast – before sinking to my knees before her. I slowly slipped her panties down, until they too were a puddle at her feet.

Then I turned my attentions to the inside of her thighs, drawing patterns closer and closer to where I knew that heat was building in her core. Nesta whimpered, and I grinned up at her wickedly.

“Fuck you,” she growled. I only smiled more broadly.

“I certainly hope that’s your intent, sweetheart,” I drawled. Then I brought my mouth to her centre and kissed the exact spot I knew she was most sensitive.

Nesta cried out, then whimpered, her hands twinning in my hair. I gripped the backs of her thighs tightly, holding her tight against me as I feasted on her. She bucked against me and I gripped her harder, one of my hands slipping upwards to cup her ass. I moaned against her at the feel of it, and she growled – only to have her growl swallowed by a moan.

“Cassian,” she moaned.

I picked her up then – only to deposit her on the bed, so she was spread before me, completely bare. She stared up at me, her chest heaving with desperate breaths.

“Yes, sweetheart?” I crooned. My hands were drawing lazy patterns on her thighs again, moving closer and closer to that spot.

“Why are your pants still on?” she growled, and I threw my head back and roared with laughter.

“Because, sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet,” I growled back at last, and I finally slipped my first finger inside her. She cried out at the sensation, and writhed as I pumped in and out, my other hand teasing that sensitive spot. I could feel it building in her, that need, that desire, that heat –

She cried out suddenly, her entire body tight and quivering as she fell over that edge. I leaned down to kiss her, swallowing her ensuing moans, my hands teasing her breasts.

“Now, Nesta, my pants can come off,” I growled. She watched me as I undid them, her breaths deep and wild, eyes widening suddenly as the length of me sprang free. And when I too was bare before her, I joined her on the bed, positioning myself above her.

I leaned down and kiss her again, capturing her lips with my own, savouring in the taste of her. It was a gently kiss – a caress. I brought my hands up to her face, cupping the back for her neck and her cheek with them as I deepened the kiss, my body humming with satisfaction. Nesta’s hands found their way into my hair and I quietly groaned into her mouth, savouring the feel of her hands on me.

The kiss that came next was not gentle – it was a wild, claiming thing. I groaned as Nesta’s hands explored my body - they found their way to my arms, to my back, exploring the hard planes of my body. It was an effort not to shiver at every touch, not to beg the female beneath for more. My own hands slid lower, to rest on her hips, my thumbs drawing lazy circles on the exposed skin.

When Nesta moaned into the kiss it was my undoing.

I lowered myself to her, pushing in slowly and gently, giving her time to adjust to the feel of me. And when I filled her to the hilt, I couldn’t stop the groan the escaped me. The feel of her –

“Gods, Nesta,” I groaned.

We moved together then – slowly, at first, then faster, as my fear of hurting her ebbed away, replaced by a need to claim – to affirm the bond growing between up, strengthening with each thrust, with each kiss, with each touch.

Until at last Nesta cried out again, finding her release, and this time I followed her over the edge, roaring as I came.

We lay like that for several moments, panting, our bodies slick with sweat. I pulled away slightly – only to roll to the side and gather her in my arms, pulling her tightly against me so I could cocoon us both in my wings.

After some time, Nesta stirred in my arms, turning her face to look up at me.

“Does this mean that we’re mates now?” I raised an eyebrow at her question. “I mean, mates like Feyre and Rhysand…”

I cut her off, growling at the sound of another male’s name on her lips, not realizing until now that I would have to suppress the urge to do so. I took a deep breath, fighting down that territorial urge I still felt hovering beneath my skin.

“I believe you’re supposed to cook for me first,” I began, but Nesta just scoffed.

“I don’t cook.”

“Yes, I get the feeling none of you Archeron’s do,” I drawled. “But seeing as we’ve gone about this whole thing quite backwards, I’d say yes, Nesta, you are my mate, truly and fully, if you accept me as such.”

“Of course I do, Cassian,” Nesta murmured, snuggling closer.

And my heart swelled at those words until I thought I might burst.

Mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone!
> 
> So this fic ended up being much longer than I had originally intended, so I've made the decision to split it into three chapters, in order to give Nessian the credit they deserve!
> 
> I'll get the rest of this fic written and posted soon, I promise!


	3. Of Passion and Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Chapter 80 of A Court of Wings and Ruin, following the Inner Circle’s return to the townhouse in Velaris. 
> 
> All characters and names belong to Sarah J Maas.

We dozed for a brief time, but quickly found ourselves tangled in one another again, unable to get enough of each other. I’d never felt this before – this need, this unrelenting desire for another. Rhys had been right when he’d warned me of the intensity of the mating bond – how the need for Nesta drove all else from my mind.

I could think of nothing but her.

The first time Nesta touched my wings during sex I nearly found completion then and there, so intense was the sensation. I cried out, flaring my wings wider, silently begging her for more. And of course she obliged, smiling wickedly as she ran a finger down my wing. Then another – her finegrs moving closer and closer to that sensitive spot at the crook of my wing. I trembled at her touch, astounded by the feel of her. And when she brought her lips up to my wings and kissed them, I did find completion, roaring again as I fell over that edge.

I spent the night finding infinite ways to pleasure her an exploring every inch of her body. Savouring in the moans and whimpers I could elicit from her as I kissed her, as I teased her with my hands and my body. Delighting in the feel of her as I slid into her, and as she rode me. Of her skin against mine.

And as the sun rose, we found ourselves tangled together in that same bed, a mess of limbs and sweat, satiated for the moment.

“Nesta,” I began, carefully. She raised her eyes to meet my gaze, and I swallowed the desire that rose in my throat – already I wanted more, wanted to see her eyes widen as I took her again. “We should bathe.”

“Are you suggesting that I smell?” Nesta inquired tartly.

I chuckled softly. “We both smell, sweetheart. And my poor, aching body needs a bath after all this … exertion.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed at that, sliding down my body again.

I scooped her up before either of us could lose focus, carrying her to the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the sink as I drew the bath, her eyes sharply observing my every movement.

Finally, when the tub was filled to the brim with steaming water, I picked her up again and carried her over, lowering her gently into the water, before sliding in behind her myself. It was a tight fit with the wings, but manageable.

“Would you wash my hair?” Nesta inquired, passing me a bottle. A challenge sparkled in her eyes.

I took the bottle and poured some of the soap into my hand, then I began to run my hands through her hair, massaging her scalp. She leaned back into me and moaned at the sensation – the sound alone was enough to have me hard against her again, but I narrowed my focus, determined not to be the first one to break in this game.

After I had rinsed her hair, Nesta turned to me, “My turn.”

And so I turned, giving her full access to not only my head, but also my wings, which I flared out, ignoring the water they sloshed onto the ground. A challenge of my own.

Nesta smiled wickedly but went to work on my hair, _accidentally_ brushing her hands against my wings with increasing frequency, chuckling at the groans she elicited from me.

“Nesta,” I growled at last, turning on her.

“This bath is _not_ big enough for whatever you’re thinking of,” Nesta said slyly. I growled at that, and scooped her up, striding out of the tub far more quickly than I had entered it, and pressed her against the nearest wall.

“Will this do?”

Nesta growled in response, the desire I could scent on her matching my own need as I took her against the wall.

~~~

I was sitting across the table from Nesta, watching her eat, when I scented him. A low growl ripped through my chest, and I was on my feet in an instant, moving to protect Nesta. From what the logical part of my mind knew was not a threat.

Nesta stood slowly, reaching to touch my arm, her eyes darting around the room, looking for whatever threat I had sensed.

“Cassian?” Rhys called out. Nesta relaxed slightly; I did not.

My brother slipped into the kitchen from the opposite door, then stopped dead in his tracks as he scented us.

Another growl rumbled in my chest.

“Right, well, Feyre was just wondering if you knew where Nesta had gone off to…” Rhys muttered. I snarled at him, disliking the fact that he was talking about my mate – my mate who I had to protect. Regardless of who she was to my High Lady. Or the fact that the male before me was my High Lord.

“I’ll let her know all is well then,” Rhys muttered before winnowing away.

The tension drained from my body as he vanished, and my shoulders sagged visibly. I turned to face Nesta, only to find her eyebrows raised questioningly.

“I suppose I should explain some of the… side effects of being mated,” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck abashedly.

Nesta growled quietly, “That was damn sexy.”

So I took her against the table to show her just how _damn sexy_ I could be.

~~~

“Did you find her?” Feyre leapt up as Rhys winnowed back into the room.

Rhys chuckled softly, “Of course I did darling.”

“Well where is she?” Feyre demanded, leaping up. “How could she sneak off without telling us? What was she thinking?!”

Rhys chuckled again, smirking slightly as he did so, “I doubt either of them were thinking very clearly when they snuck up the House of Wind.”

Feyre paused at that, and Rhysand opened the memory up to her – showing her a very territorial Cassian growling at him, protecting Nesta, _his mate_. Let her scent what he had – that their scents were now inextricably intertwined.

Feyre sighed, “I suppose the House is off limits for a while then?”

“It would appear so,” Rhys chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you everyone for reading this not-so-little fic of mine! This is the end of this part of Nessian's story (for me), but I guarantee I will have more Nessian coming your way (sooner or later!)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Everyone!
> 
> So this fic ended up being much longer than I had originally intended, so I've made the decision to split it into two (maybe 3) chapters, in order to give Nessian the credit they deserve! 
> 
> I'll get the rest of this fic written and posted soon, I promise!


End file.
